


All I Wanted

by wildling_wolf



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildling_wolf/pseuds/wildling_wolf
Summary: The strip tease no one asked for.





	

All I Wanted

Rated: Mature- NSFW

Pairings: Clarke/Lexa, Octavia/Raven, You/This Fic: Clarke’s POV

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters; this story is for entertainment purposes only and is not affiliated with The 100. This is not for profit.

 

All I Wanted

Several hours, and several bottles of wine later, Octavia, Raven, and Clarke were lounging comfortably in the tent, after their enormous meal. Clarke was in a slumped seated position on a chair, legs stretched out in front of her, feet on a table, hands resting over her full belly.

Octavia, and Raven were on a couch, Octavia sitting up, her feet kicked up on the table, while Raven was sprawled the length of the couch, her head on Octavia’s lap. All three were lazily sipping wine, as multiple candles bathed the room in a warm, amber glow.

“Great night!” Clarke exclaimed, having been made bolder by the wine.

“Definitely.” Raven agreed batting at Octavia’s hair, which was hanging down over her face. Octavia gently caressed Raven face while she played; content to enjoy the simple pleasure of the innocent contact.

Clarke was paying careful attention to Octavia and Raven’s behavior, surreptitiously watching their every move, certain they had a highly desirable type of relationship. All of their actions, little, and big, were being catalogued in the back of Clarke’s mind for later use.

Clarke stopped to think for a moment, swirling her wine in her glass, now that they had proper wine glasses. “Not great enough.” She mumbled, sipping her wine again.

“Then we’ll crank it up,“ Raven declared. “In a little while. Digestion is serious business.” She stretched extravagantly, while Octavia reached down, and rubbed her belly. Clarke gave the pair a lazy half grin, thinking about the belly she wanted to be rubbing, and idly stroked her own stomach, letting her mind wander.

Clarke finds Raven and Octavia’s murmured words, and soft laughter soothing, and soon she drifts off as the pair quietly exchange words of love, time, and promise. In the back of her mind she wondered briefly if they were the most sickly sweet besotted pair she had ever seen, worse then her mother and Kane, but let the question fade away as the heaviness of sleep sought to claim her.

Meanwhile, Raven and Octavia’s affections tapered off, as they began to notice a change in Clarke’s energy. As one they turned to look at her sleeping form curled up in the chair. There was a sheen of sweat covering her face, but there was also an amused smile playing faintly across her lips.

“What’s going on in there?” Raven murmured…  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The room is large and dark. There are two chairs positioned twenty feet away from each other. Behind one is a double door, behind the other is a gleaming pole reaching from floor to ceiling in the shadow of a darkened dais, with an imposing throne towering over the room.

A nervous golden blonde sits stiffly in a straight-backed chair, hands hanging at her sides, a black satin blindfold tied snuggly over her eyes, she trembles slightly, and a thin sheen of sweat covers her skin.

Legions of candles flicker randomly, dappling her pale skin with shadows and light as their flames dance. She wiggles her fingers slightly, and strains her neck left and right, searching for any sensory input she can find. A sound, a smell, a touch, anything that would inform her of her situation. But there is nothing.

Behind her, the massive double doors swings open, and a commanding woman with deep chestnut hair, and sun soaked skin strolls through, hips swaying seductively. A sensual half grin adorning her lips, she stops just short of the waiting blonde. She is wearing tailored white suit pants, a matching white dress coat cut high to reveal her softly sculpted abs. Her chestnut hair is tied back in a loose ponytail full of waves, and free of braids, topped by a white fedora that sports a blue satin band. She wears no shoes, and makes no sound.

The woman in the chair tenses, feeling a presence behind her, and catching a faint whiff of flowers and earth, a tingle courses through her entire nervous system. It’s Her scent. The scent that is uniquely hers, that tempts the blonde, entices her. 

The impeccably dressed newcomer places her hands on the back of the chair, her long, elegant fingers wrapping gently around the still women’s shoulders; she leans close to the others woman’s ear, breathing softly, and huskily into it, doing nothing for the blonde’s tension.

“Relax, Clarke.” She murmurs, running her tapered fingers up, and down Clarke’s trembling arms.

“Lexa.” Clarke breathes; relief, love, and desire flooding her body. For a moment, she sags against the back of the chair, drained by the emotional rollercoaster. She reaches behind her, seeking Lexa’s reassuring physical presence.

Lexa squeezes her toned shoulders, preventing her from reaching her goal.

“Hands to yourself, lover.” She murmurs in a low, seductive voice.

Clarke straightens instantly, quickly moving her hands into her lap, clasping them there uncertainly.

“Lexa, what’s going-” Clarke is silenced by Lexa’s index finger against her lips.

“Trust me.” Lexa whispers, as music starts to play, a slow, moving melody that eases Clarke’s nerves, and strips her of her anxiety.

(All I Wanted by Paramore begins to play)

Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there… Lexa sings the lyrics in a breathy voice into Clarke’s ear, as she runs her hands across Clarke’s shoulders.

I’ll beg you nice from my knees… She quickly steps around Clarke, and over her leg, kneeling in front of her, and pulling off the satin blindfold.

And when the world treats you way too fairly… Lexa pulls the loosened tie up over her head, slipping it down over Clarke’s head and settling it around her neck.

It’s a shame I’m a dream…She rises slowly, leaning her well toned body in closer to Clarke, as she begins undoing the buttons on her coat.

All I wanted was yooooou… As the chorus cries out hauntingly, Lexa turns on her heel, and saunters away, swinging her hips seductively; a stunned Clarke watches her go, mouth agape. She turns to face Clarke, and as the chorus echoes itself, she works her way through the buttons holding the other side of the overcoat closed.

I think I’ll pace my apartment a few times… Lexa paces to and fro in front of the empty chair, slowly easing the coat off her shoulders and down her arms, eventually casting it carelessly aside, revealing a loosely tied black bindi. Sensuously she lowers herself into the chair; Clarke hangs on her every move.

And fall asleep on the couch… She leans her body back, stretching herself out as she runs her hands down her sides, then back up her torso, and neck to her fedora, she pulls it down to cover her face.

And wake up early to black and white reruns…Lexa lowers the fedora, reveals her sapphire eyes, and winks mischievously at Clarke.

That escape from my mouth… Lexa smiles brightly, and mouths the words ‘I love you’ to Clarke, before the chorus picks back up.

All I wanted was yooooouuuu… Lexa rises, crossing the distance between them with her hips swinging playfully from side to side. She places the fedora on Clarke’s head, shaking her own chestnut locks free of their ponytail prison, and steps in close to straddle Clarke’s legs, hips undulating, mesmerizing the hapless blonde.

She carefully retreats, until she has room to turn around, showing Clarke her long legs, and back. Lexa carefully steps backwards, moving to once again straddle Clarke’s thighs, leaning forward to display her ‘assets’ to the blonde.

Clarke grips the edge of her seat hard, trying to restrain herself from squeezing Lexa’s round, full ass, which Lexa temptingly swings back and forth just inches from her face.

Lexa rises to stand agonizingly slow, her fingers deftly working the bindi loose. Once she‘s unwrapped it, she slides the offending length of fabric off, tossing it backwards over her head with a flourish.

She steps forward, un-straddling Clarke’s legs as she turns to face her, raising a bare foot to the space on the seat of the chair between Clarke’s thighs, her long brown hair cascades down over her breasts, hiding them from view.

Her carefully crafted seductress façade nearly cracks, when she casts her crystal blue eyes towards Clarke, to find the blondes ocean blue eyes obscured. She is sitting there dumb- founded, Lexa’s unraveled bindi on her head.

A laugh slips loose, but Lexa recovers quickly, and leans forward to remove the wayward fabric, her breasts swaying temptingly close to Clarke’s pale face.

Clarke clutches her seat in a white-knuckle grip, forcing herself not to reach out, and take a breast in each hand.

Lexa lays her bindi in Clarke’s lap, running her hands from her foot, up her calf, over her thigh to the waist band of her suit pants, where she slides the button smoothly through the hole, and swiftly lowers the zipper.

She brings her foot down from the chair edge, as she begins to slowly and seductively push the pants off her hips, over her thighs, and down her calves. As she clears her calves, she lifts each leg in turn, slipping them off completely, to reveal panties that perfectly matched the discarded bindi clutched in Clarke’s hands.

Lexa spins on her heel, striding confidently towards the empty chair, a sassy sway in her hips. Clarke’s eyes are glued to Lexa’s well sculpted frame; she hungrily drinks in Lexa’s every movement, as Lexa bends over slowly, letting Clarke admire her firm, round ass, and long, toned legs. She sets her slacks on the seat of the chair, then straightens up just as slowly.

Lexa grips the top of the chair back, and drags it away from the pole, the flickering light painting ever changing patterns on her golden skin.

With the chair out of the way, Lexa prowls back to the pole. As the music throbs, she spins once around the pole, revealing small flashes of yellow on her full breasts, previously hidden by her hair. As she flows back towards Clarke, she pushes back her long brown locks, revealing two coal black pauna face pasties strategically covering her nipples.

Lexa smiles slyly, as Clarke bounces back in her chair with a snort, eyes wide, mouth open.

“Relax, my love.” Lexa purrs, as she straddles Clarke’s lap, pushing down on Clarke’s tense thighs with her own, and placing her hands on her shoulders.

Lexa stands, leaning closer to Clarke, pressing her generous breasts closer, causing Clarke to whimper in frustration. She presses her full lips to Clarke’s ear. “They are for keeping your hands to your self, lover. This is a solo performance. Audience participation isn’t until later.”

She steps back off of Clarke, retrieving the fedora and tie as she goes; she puts the tie around her neck and places the fedora on her head, as she returns to the shining pole.

Clarke shudders pleasantly as she watches the blatantly sensual behavior Lexa exhibits, unaccustomed to her being this open with her sexuality. It’s driving Clarke wild with desire. She needs to feel her body pressed against the swaying, undulating, goddess before her.

Clarke groans in frustration as Lexa arrives at the pole, and turns to place her back to it, wiggling down into a squatting position. She places one hand on each knee, gradually she pushes them apart, then brings them back together again in slow motion, before she wiggles her way back up the gleaming metal.

She slides slowly around the pole until her back is to Clarke, her hand pushing its way high up the smooth, cool metal; she begins to lean backwards, tipping the fedora to Clarke as she goes. The lower Lexa’s backbend goes, the farther Clarke’s jaw drops, as she ogles Lexa’s golden, full breasts, and taut, smooth stomach.

Her head almost touching the floor, Lexa rotates lazily around the pole, reveling in the heady rush of performing for Clarke. Hand over hand she slowly pulls herself up the cool metal, still circling the pole, eyes on Clarke the entire time.

As she comes around to face Clarke again, she gives her a devilish smile before she turns to face the pole, and as she leans over at her hips, her bottom sways from side to side, hypnotizing Clarke. With agonizing slowness Lexa begins sliding her feet apart, gradually lowering herself in the splits.

“Sweet Goddess have mercy.” Clarke mumbles, watching the muscles in Lexa’s legs and ass tightening and flexing as she drops lower, and lower.

Between the candles, and her performance, a thin sheen of sweat builds on Lexa’s skin, giving her a shimmering appearance under the flickering of the candles.

When Lexa’s legs finally meet the floor, Clarke whimpers, and shifts in her seat, her mind on fire with possibilities.

Lexa tightens the muscles in her legs and ass, as she begins a slow hand over hand climb back up, lazily dragging her legs back together. Once again upright, she half spins around the pole, stopping to face Clarke, with a crooked, impish grin.

She steps out from behind the pole, leading with her left leg, her right hip tracing the curve of the metal intimately. She rolls her hips from side to side as she prowls towards Clarke, body rippling, arms sweeping out before her.

Clarke squirms helplessly in the chair as Lexa approaches; she clutches the edge of the seat for dear life, while her lover stalks her, Lexa’s lips bearing a predatory smile. 

Clarke squeaks in surprise as Lexa straddles her hips, wrapping her long legs around Clarke’s waist, and the chair tightly, she takes the blonde’s face in her hands.

Lexa’s thumbs gently trace Clarke’s tempting pink lips as she leans in closer, her own lips hovering over Clarke’s.

“I miss you.” she whispers, her words send vibrations into Clarke’s lips, sending a chill racing down her spine.

Lexa pulls back slowly; her mouth lingers close to Clarke’s, as she gives Clarke a sly wink and leans back farther, and farther.

Clarke has the sides of the chair in a white-knuckle grip, as Lexa sorely tests the smaller woman’s self control with the close proximity of her lean tan stomach, and full breasts. The blonde wants nothing more than to rake her nails down Lexa’s flat belly, and ravage the silky-smooth breasts.

In full arch, Lexa reaches back and begins to run her fingers through her hair, the muscles in her stomach start to bunch and contract, as she begins the slow climb back up. She trails her fingers down through her hair, across her shoulders, tracing between her breasts and over her belly, a sweet smile of innocence on her lips. 

She unwinds her legs from Clarke and the chair, as Clarke growls deep in her throat, desire consuming her. Lexa slides down off Clarke’s lap, grinding herself against the blonde the entire way, her hands move to Clarke’s shoulders as she steadies herself, her ice blue gaze locking with Clarke’s indigo stare. Lexa trails her hands down Clarke’s arms to her thighs, along her thighs to her knees, inciting goose bumps to break out over the blonde’s pale flesh.

Lexa draws her arms back slowly, covering her breasts as she takes measured steps backwards, retreating to the gleaming pole, her body sways like a serpent’s to the intoxicating rhythm of the music.

The kiss of cold metal against her bottom let’s her know she has gone far enough, and she pauses with a shiver.

Releasing her breasts, she reaches above her head to grip the pole, and begins to lower herself hand over hand, down into the splits once again. The extension of her arms displays her torso’s finer points, full plump breasts, ribs Clarke knew to be exquisitely ticklish, cute innie belly button she thoroughly enjoys toying with. Clarke takes careful inventory of those beloved body parts with her eyes, her hands itching to caress them.

Once she finds her balance on the floor, Lexa releases the pole as she swings her legs together in front of her, crossing them coyly at the knees, then she strikes a nymph-ish pose. She uncrosses her legs with a flourish, and then tucks her knees to her chest, spinning back towards the pole.

Lexa rolls up onto the balls of her feet; she rises languidly, hips twitching from left to right, as she slithers back up the pole. The dramatic roll from side to side, a fine display of belly dancing, makes the already high strung blonde bounce off her seat, as Lexa undulates and gyrates her way around to face Clarke again.

She dances her way back towards Clarke, torso rippling, lean, toned legs sweeping out before her with each long stride. As she reaches Clarke, she slides one smooth leg between Clarke’s knees, and nudges them apart, moving her body in as close as she can to the blonde without touching her.

Lexa’s lean, toned belly contracting rhythmically so close to her face makes Clarke want to nibble on the exquisite hips kicking from side to side, making the gentle waves of flesh possible. She becomes so lost in Lexa’s graceful movements; she doesn’t realize she is reaching for the chestnut-haired beauty’s swaying hips, until Lexa stops her hand with a light slap.

“Uh-uh.” she murmurs, shaking her head. She leans in nice and close, and shakes her breasts slightly, making the menacing pasties wiggle and dance in front of Clarke’s eyes. Clarke pushes back into the chair so hard she nearly topples it to the floor, and she emits a squeak.

“Not fair.” She mutters, slumping down, hands tangling in Lexa’s bindi, her eyes steadily following the rhythmic motions of Lexa’s belly button as it edges closer with every undulation.

A sly crooked smile slips across Lexa’s full lips, as she winds closer and closer, Clarke mesmerized by her cat like grace, and ripe womanly body. She stops moving an inch away from the blonde’s waiting mouth, reaching down to tangle her hands in Clarke’s golden locks.

Leaning down Lexa murmurs in her lover’s ear.

“I’m going to wrap up now,” she nibbles on Clarke’s earlobe tenderly, as she tugs firmly on her silken hair.

“So I can give you a more private dance.” She purrs, pushing forward on Clarke’s head, she closes the one inch gap between hips and lips.

Clarke surges forward against Lexa, as she captures the tip of Lexa’s hip bone with her teeth; she wraps her strong arms around Lexa’s full hips. “Yesh, om yesh!” Clarke exclaims, her lips mashed against Lexa’s stomach.

Lexa reaches down, gently cupping Clarke’s chin; she tilts her head back, leaning down to capture Clarke’s mouth in a deep, soul-fusing kiss. Gradually the oral exploration tapers off, their lips separating ever so slightly for air.

“I want you.” Lexa whispers breathlessly against Clarke’s mouth.

A broad smile slides easily across Clarke’s lips, as she pulls back to gaze into Lexa’s sparkling blue eyes, and tightens her grip on Lexa’s hips. 

“We will meet again,” Lexa murmurs, staring deep into Clarke’s ice blue eyes, through to her soul, her rightful home.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke wakes with a start, falling off the chair into a heap on the floor, startling Raven and Octavia who were discussing Raven’s plans for the next day.

“I’M A FUCKING FUCK UP!” Clarke shouts, jumping up off the floor and scrambling to yank her boots on and pull her jacket on at the same time, muttering incoherently under her breath.

“Only sometimes, my favorite blonde.” Raven offered with a knowing smile, there was no point in trying to console her, she was on a mission. “Going some where?”

Clarke gathered her necessities with hands shaking from adrenaline and urgency. “My stupid self refused to give her another chance, Raven. I can’t just walk away, not from her.” 

Clarke ran to their door and tried to yank it open with super human strength. Luckily Raven rushed over to lend a hand, by turning the locks for the valiantly struggling Clarke.

“Funny how those work, huh?” Raven asked cheerfully, leaning on the door. “Where are you thinking of going in this state, Clarke?”

“I need to see Lexa, My Lexa. My Heda. My Commander. I’ve wasted three months! I belong with her, to her. We’re forever.” Clarke practically growled. 

“Carry on my wayward little princess, carry on.” Octavia rushed to the door, ushering Clarke out. “Be careful, ok? Get back to her alive, got it?” 

Clarke rushed out into the night. “Got it! Thanks!”


End file.
